Page 39 of Seen Knot Heard

“Yeah.” I run a hand down my face. “Thank god for Holden.”

At least there’s one steady presence in this shitstorm we call a pack. One person I can count on, no matter what fresh hell the universe hurls our way.

The water taxi takes shape, its hull bouncing against the waves as it cuts a jagged white path through the choppy surf, the engine’s distant putter growing louder. Salt spray hangs heavy in the air, clinging to my skin and dampening my hair. I swipe at my forehead, but the gritty texture of saltwater and sweat lingers.

The dock creaks beneath my boots as I shift my weight, the weathered planks interspersed with newer ones we replaced after the storm. Each gust of wind brings a biting chill that seeps through my jacket, but it barely registers. All of my focus narrows on the approaching boat and the faint silhouette of passengers huddled under the covered cabin.

The breeze shifts, carrying a scent that punches through the brine and diesel fumes, a delicate bouquet of lilies and lilacs, and my Alpha surges to the surface, howling to claim, to possess, to Mark her as ours.

Emily says something, but the rush of blood in my ears drowns her out.

Mate, the primal voice snarls in my head.Mate is coming.

As the boat draws closer, my hands curl into fists at my sides. Every nerve in my body screams to wade into the surf and drag Chloe into my arms, scent her, coat her in my pheromones.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I whip around to snarl at the foreign Alpha. Not pack.

Emily raises her hands and takes a step back. “You need to calm yourself down, Nat. You’re going to scare the poor girl. God knows what she’s been through in the last three weeks.”

I force myself to be still. To wait. Because Emily’s right. I have no idea what I’m getting us into. No clue how this woman will fit into our damaged pack.

But she’s here now. The Omega I’ve been waiting for, longing for, even if I didn’t want to.

When she steps off that boat, nothing will ever be the same.

The water taxi jolts against the dock with a hollowthud, sending ripples across the water’s surface. Emily moves first, her boots striking the planks as she grabs the coarse rope Dominic tosses over the side. The rough fibers strain as Emily hauls the boat snug against the dock.

My boots slip a little on the salt-slicked wood as I step forward. The dock sways beneath us, waves slapping against the hull in a steady rhythm, spraying icy droplets into the air.

I reach over the side to grab the rope and finish anchoring the boat as it rocks against the pilings. The scent of diesel overlays the cleaner tang of seaweed and brine as the engine sputters and falls silent.

Holden vaults over the side, landing on the dock with a thud. The wind catches in his golden curls, tussling them. He turns back to the boat and holds out his hands. “Come on, sugar. You can rest once we’re home.”

For a moment, nothing happens, and my breath locks in my lungs as the seconds stretch.

Then, Chloe appears, shuffling out of the covered cabin. Dominic hovers at her side, ready to catch her if she loses her balance.

When she reaches out to take Holden’s outstretched hands, a bright pink cast encases one arm. I knew she’d broken it in her fall, but seeing it in person lands like a punch to the gut.

Dominic keeps a steadying hand on her back as she steps onto the dock. “Got her?”

The wind catches Dominic’s words, but Chloe’s soft reply reaches my ears. “I’m okay.”

“You will be.” Holden cups her elbows. “See? Didn’t I say you wouldn’t fall into the ocean?”

I wait for her bright giggle in response, but it never comes.

My heart clenches at her diminished appearance, the way her pink hair hangs in tangled knots, the ashen pallor of her heart-shaped face.

Her nose twitches, and her head lifts to scan the shore before she turns toward the ocean and spots me by the back of the boat.

A jolt rocks through me, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away. Exhaustion stains the hollows of her face, and those pink eyes that sparkled with laughter and joy when she first arrived are now dull and haunted.

Despite it all, she attempts to smile, her cracked lips twitching.

The sight pierces my heart. Her cheeks are sunken, and the oversized sweats hang on her small frame. She appears frail, gaunt even, a wisp of the bubbly, vibrant Omega who crashed into our pack and turned our world on its head. The woman standing in front of me is a ghost, a shadow of her former self.

And yet, my Alpha still roars to claim her, to pull her into the safety of my arms, to shield her from any more harm and never let her go. Because even broken and battered, she’s the most beautiful Omega I’ve ever seen.

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